14. Only Love – Tess
I’m not sure what I was thinking when I suggested the date didn’t have to end. The last few minutes have left me dizzy, and I don’t think it’s all made sense yet.
Brad shuts the door behind me, then pins me with his hands flat against it above my shoulders. I’m caged, and he’s so close. His spicy cologne is intoxicating. He leans in for a kiss and I respond automatically, drowning in the sensations as his mouth hungrily takes mine.
As the kiss breaks, and his lips start to travel down my neck with delicious precision, my body wants to give in to him. Throw myself into this passionate moment.
But my mind is revolting.
“Wait,” I whisper, gently pushing him away.
He immediately stops and straightens, running a hand through his hair.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He turns away and goes to the mini fridge for a beer, opening it quickly and taking a swig.
I’m still leaning against the door, trying to catch my breath. Trying to reign in all my scattered thoughts and emotions. I can only imagine what he’s going through.
“No, I’m sorry,” I say, stepping over and grabbing the beer from him, taking my own long pull before handing it back. It earns me an arched brow that’s laced with a few emotions I can’t quite identify.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I just…” It takes me a second to find the words. “I’m not sure why I suggested coming in here, after…”
“After the bullshit with my ex.” It’s obvious he’s angry. And he has every right to be. I would be in his place.
“Maybe we should talk about what happened out there?” I round the couch and sit down, patting the cushion next to me for him to sit, and he does, letting out a long sigh.
“Well, as I said, that was my ex, Gina,” he grimaces just saying her name. “I haven’t seen or heard anything from her in like six or seven months. She cheated on me with the douchebag who picked her up, Bobby.”
“I know who she is,” I say flatly. I’ve seen her pictures while doing my research, and she’s even prettier in person. Messed up as hell, but still pretty. I can feel the jealousy creeping in and push it away. “And she’s supposedly pregnant?”
“So she says…” Another frown creases his brow, his eyes now haunted.
“You don’t believe her?”
His anger flares again. “I don’t know. She used that to get me back once before when we were fighting. She claimed she lost it after a few weeks, but it turns out she was never pregnant. Her best friend told me the truth after the fact.”
“Holy shit. How could she do that?”
“Who fucking knows why anyone does anything? She also got clean when we were together. I guess that’s a thing of the past. She looked high as a fucking kite out there.”
My stomach lurches, thinking if she is pregnant, what she’s doing to her own body if she’s using, let alone a baby too. It sickens me to think someone could be so manipulative. Especially to Brad who’s already a father. They’d have to know what that meant to him.
“Why do you think she was here tonight?” I ask, still trying to make sense of the whole situation.
He sips his beer, his anger slowly subsiding. “That’s the million-dollar question. I’m assuming they were fighting, and one of them thought to drag me into it. Either to make the other jealous or dump her off on me to make a statement.”
“Lucky you,” I say, taking the beer for another quick pull. “Does that happen a lot? Like with anyone else from your past?” I need to know if this is a recurring thing with Brad’s exes. Sure, I’ve researched them, but nothing like this ever came up before. If I’m going to be playing ex-girlfriend whack-a-mole, I’d like to be prepared.
He hesitates before answering, and my chest clenches. I’m not going to like his answer, I can tell.
He glances at me, but doesn’t meet my eyes, and looks away just as quickly. “That’s hard to say. At least, kind of. Maybe. I don’t know how to put it.”
“Honesty would be great,” I say sarcastically, handing the bottle back to him.
That gets his attention, and he meets my eyes, a storm raging in his steely grays.
“Tess, I’m being honest with you.” He rubs at the stubble on his chin, annoyed. “I just don’t know how to explain.”
The blood in my veins is cooling, wondering what is so difficult about this. It should be an easy answer. Yes or no.
“Brad, I need to know if this is a regular thing. Do people from your past show up like this all the time?”
“Not all the time…”
I feel sick. “You’re not giving me the warm fuzzies here.” Thoughts of leaving now and moving on are running through my head. I guess it’s better I found this out now before I got too invested in a relationship with him. But just the thought of ending this now craters my heart. Still, my spine straightens, ready to bolt.
He shifts to face me, his eyes now sad as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Listen. I can’t predict what other people are going to do. Ever. And unfortunately, I do have a lot of people in my past. I can’t deny that.” He pauses, but I don’t respond. “On occasion people pop up out of the blue, looking for another good time.”
My breath still feels trapped in my throat. I knew he used to be a playboy but didn’t think it was still a thing. “Good time?”
His face flushes slightly. “It used to be my motto: ‘I’m here for a good time, not a long time.’” He shakes his head ruefully, and I can see embarrassment, or maybe it’s shame, coloring his features now. “It’s just how it was.”
“You say that like it’s past tense. But is that what you’re doing with me? Just looking for a good time, not a long time?”
“Absolutely not,” he says quickly, and with a sternness I’ve not seen in him. He sets the bottle on the coffee table and grabs both of my hands in his. “This is different, Tess. This is way different.”
His assurances hit the wall of doubt I’ve taken years to build brick by painful brick inside me though. I’ve heard that a million times before and been burned every time I believed it. This is different. Can someone conditioned to use charm as currency ever surrender the upper hand? Once the novelty fades, what stops his old instincts from kicking in, tossing aside promises to chase whatever next thrill comes around?
I shake my head, bitterness from old wounds festering. My ex Corey’s lies that sounded so similar bounce around my weary heart. ”People don”t just flip an enlightenment switch and change their patterns, no matter how much we want to.”
Brad”s mouth tightens. I brace for predictable excuses or deflection. Instead, his jaw sets with an unfamiliar resolve. ”You”re absolutely right. I can”t rewrite my past. It is what it is. But I am willing to reshape my future.” His eyes burn fervently now. ”Or try to. I’ve been trying to. Just tell me what I need to do.”
I want to believe him with every fiber of my being but doubts still shadow my thoughts. I, for one, know that people don’t instantly change. And even if he’s telling the truth, what happens when one of his ‘good times’ shows up when I’m not around? I don’t know if I can handle a relationship like this.
I don’t share. It’s monogamy or nothing with me.
So, what do I do now? Cut and run? Or give him the benefit of the doubt, and see how it goes?
How much can my heart take?